2025-04-09 14:54:27Just then, Nolan stepped into La Bella Noire.
He paused for a moment at the entrance, scanning the elegant rooftop like a man on a mission. His sharp brown eyes moved from table to table, slowly… carefully… as if searching for someone important. He was searching for his wife. At the far end, Hilda spotted him first. She smirked and whispered under her breath, “Well, well... the average Joe is here.” The other women turned quickly. Even Evelyn. And for the first time in her life… she felt ashamed of him. She wished she didn’t know him. She wished he would turn around and disappear. But he didn’t. Nolan’s eyes found her. And almost immediately, his face lit up with a soft smile. Without hesitation, he started walking toward their table. “Oh, the average Joe is coming,” Freda said mockingly, lifting her glass. “Everyone be on your guard.” The women laughed quietly—but then, like a strange magic passed over them, they all adjusted their posture. Their backs straightened. Their faces tightened. No more giggles. No more ease. It was like they all put on invisible armor. Nolan reached the table and gave a polite smile. “Good evening, ladies,” he said gently. “Evening,” Hilda replied, her voice was cold and flat, her eyes not even meeting his. “Welcome,” Freda added with a fake grin. “The great Nolan himself.” Clarissa only raised a brow and sipped her champagne. Nolan ignored the tone. He turned to Evelyn. “Hey, babe.” He leaned in, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and kissed her softly on the cheek. Evelyn flinched just a little. It was small… but the others noticed. Still, Nolan smiled. “Can we go outside?” he asked. “I have something for you.” Evelyn turned to look at him fully now. Her voice came out sharper than she intended. “How did you find me here?” “Come on, Evelyn,” Nolan said with a soft smile. “You’ll love the surprise I have for you.” Evelyn turned to him sharply, her eyes were burning. “Nolan, why are you here?” she snapped. “You weren’t invited. I’m out with my friends, and you’re ruining it!” Her voice was loud. Loud enough that several people at nearby tables turned to look. A few heads tilted in curiosity. A few others whispered. Nolan felt a chill run down his spine. His skin tightened. Goosebumps crawled across his arms. Embarrassment. Big, heavy embarrassment. But still… he didn’t flinch. He stood his ground. “Well… it seems you’re still mad,” he said quietly. “But I understand that. However…” He paused, then brought his fingers to his lips—and whistled. Loud and sharp. Immediately, the doors of La Bella Noire opened once again. And in came a jazz band—fully dressed in traditional French outfits. Berets. Red scarves. White shirts. Black trousers. They walked in with smooth steps, instruments in hand. Without delay, they began to play a soft, romantic tune. The melody floated like sweet perfume. Then, the dancers came in—male and female ballet performers in flowing costumes. They twirled and moved gracefully. The male dancer kept reaching out for the female dancer… kneeling… stretching his hand… showing how sorry he was. The female dancer, at first, turned her back… but slowly, beautifully, she began to respond to his moves. Her eyes softened. She danced toward him. They touched hands. The performance was so touching that the entire restaurant went quiet. Phones came out. Customers began to record the scene, with smiles all over their faces. A few ladies placed their hands on their chest. “Awwww…” “This is so sweet…” Then, another man stepped forward. He was dressed neatly in a black tuxedo. In his hands was a cake—beautifully decorated with pink and white cream. He walked to Nolan and handed him the cake. On the cake, the words were written clearly: PLEASE FORGIVE ME Nolan turned to Evelyn again. “I know what I said two days ago at your Apex Ascendency Gala was out of place,” he began slowly. “And I know I went too far. I said things I should never have said. Things that hurt you.” He held the cake gently, his eyes were calm. “You are a smart… strong… beautiful woman. You’re everything I’ve ever needed in a woman. And yes… maybe emotions made you do some things too. But I forgive you for those… and I ask that you forgive me too.” His voice was sincere. His eyes didn’t blink. Evelyn sat still. Her mouth was slightly open. Her heartbeat faster than before. She looked around. Many of the female customers—especially those in their forties and fifties—were wiping small tears from their eyes. “So cute…” one of them said. “If my husband did this, I would forgive him in one second…” Another said. Evelyn looked at the cake. Then at the dancers. Then at Nolan. Then slowly… she turned to her friends. Her eyes asked the question silently: Should I forgive him?
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FIVE MILLION REASONS TO RUN
Three days had passed since the folder appeared. Three long, restless days.Nolan hadn’t eaten much. He hadn’t slept right. His mind had been buried in code and paranoia.He had gone deeper than ever into the Blockchain market, studying every move, every shift, every whisper in the network.He watched as other hackers took Lord Atherton's offer. And he watched them vanish—silent logouts, ghost accounts, blacklisted IPs. Just... gone.But he didn’t touch the folder.He kept his promise to himself.He didn’t click.Now, as soft blue morning light poured into the small vents near the bunker ceiling, Nolan leaned back in his old office chair. The glow from the screens around him no longer felt like pressure—they just felt like light.He stretched his arms above his head, bones cracking slightly. A long sigh escaped his chest.“That’s it,” he whispered. “I’m done for today.”He saved a few final logs, closed some private browser tunnels, and powered down two of his older machines.The bunk
THE GLOWING CAGE
Right inside Nolan's secret bunker, the folder glowed on Nolan’s screen:NATIONAL FUND — PRIORITY ACCESSIt looked harmless. Just another file. But to Nolan, it was like a burning ember—bright, hot, impossible to ignore.He didn’t touch it.Not yet.His fingers, were usually fast and sure as they typed across his keyboard, now hovered in mid-air. Frozen. Hesitant.His gut—the place where his instincts usually spoke loud and clear—was quiet. Worse than quiet. It was tied in a tight, painful knot.He sat in his command room, the place he had built with his own hands. A dark, humming space filled with glowing screens and the quiet buzz of machines. Wires twisted across the floor like living things, connecting everything together. This was the heart of the Ghost Network—a secret system Nolan had built alone, line by line, byte by byte. It was his weapon, his creation, his answer to the powerful digital regime that ruled their world. Specifically the Blockchain market.Now, the regime w
A BYTE OF BAIT
The cameras were rolling.Reporters filled the press room like bees in a hive, buzzing with questions. Notepads flipped open. Camera flashes exploded. Some stood on tiptoe just to get a better view of the man who was about to speak.At the podium stood the Minister of Finance—short, sharp-eyed, and polished to perfection. His navy-blue suit looked like it had been pressed between glass. His round glasses sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose. When he opened his mouth, the room fell silent like someone had cut the power.“Today,” he said, his voice smooth but strong, “we launch the most powerful economic initiative in our nation’s digital future.”The words bounced across the walls like thunder.“The National Digital Opportunity Fund—a groundbreaking initiative worth over 300 billion dollars—is not just about money. It’s about rebuilding the future from the code up.”He let that hang for a beat.“This program will support decentralized startups, offer zero-tax crypto incentives, fu
GHOST NETWORK BREACHED
He murmured, his deep voice was barely above a whisper.“Precisely,” Nolan said, nodding slowly. “This isn’t just spying. This is a declaration. They want me to know I’m vulnerable… that they can reach me—anywhere, anytime. And this isn’t a normal hitman style, not entirely. Too… personal. Too taunting. Too haunting.”Just as the word “haunting” left Nolan’s lips, the lights in the room—and the entire mansion—flickered, then plunged them into pitch-black silence.In one fluid motion, Anya’s hand flew to the pistol holstered at her side, her stance shifting into combat readiness. Her eyes scanned every shadow, every flicker of movement in the darkness. Boris stepped forward, placing his massive frame between the door and the rest of the room. His breathing slowed, his muscles coiled like a spring. Mr. Jethro didn’t move from his seat, but his shoulders straightened, and his eyes narrowed—his body language was now more alert than ever.No one spoke. No one dared.Outside the meeting r
THE SILENCE SCREAMS
Nolan stared at the screen. We see you. The words burned into his thoughts.His hands trembled. The footage had shown him in every room—his study, his kitchen, even his bunker. That wasn’t just a security breach. That was a message.Someone had been inside. Someone skilled enough to leave no trace.The lights flickered again. He looked up fast, eyes scanning every corner. Was it a power issue—or were they watching right now?The walls felt closer. The silence louder. His lab, once a safe place, now felt like a lie.He had swept his chamber, his lab and his balcony. He even asked some of the enforcers within his mansion to scan the area countless times. Nothing. No hidden devices, no signs of entry. And yet, the chip had proof. Clean, perfect video. From impossible angles.How did they do it? How long had they been there?He felt cold. Not from fear—but from the truth hitting him hard: he wasn’t alone. He hadn’t been for a while.This was more than spying. It was control.Nolan clenche
WE SEE YOU
Finally, with a deep breath, Nolan carefully lifted the box. It was surprisingly light, almost empty. He brought it inside, placing it gently on a clean, white cloth on his desk. He used a tiny, specialized pry tool to unseal the edges. The lid lifted with a soft click, revealing its contents. There was only one thing inside: a single, small, black data chip. It looked like a standard memory chip, but Nolan knew better than to trust appearances. This was clearly encrypted, likely with a level of security that would stump anyone else. But not him.He picked up the chip, feeling its cool, smooth surface against his gloved fingers. His mind raced. "If they wanted me dead," he thought, "I’d already be dead." This wasn't about killing him. This was about something else. A message. A warning. A declaration. But from whom? Elias Thorne? The Phantom Syndicate? Or someone else entirely? The questions swirled in his mind, each one leading to another dead end. Yet, there was a strange s
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